


The Penalty

by citylightsrestlessnights



Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, James McAvoy RPF, Jim Sturgess RPF, X-Men: First Class (2011) RPF
Genre: Classical Music, Drama, F/M, Frederic Chopin inspired, Friendship, Love, Music, RPF, Romance, relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-15
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2017-10-31 05:23:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 23,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/340394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/citylightsrestlessnights/pseuds/citylightsrestlessnights
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James is a music teacher who gets from Scotland to London. Isabella Lynch is a music student who's a little psychorigid and obsessed with Chopin, one day she meets him on a library and this story of love, betrayal, obsession and hidden feelings starts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own James McAvoy or Jim Sturgess, even when I’d love to. This is mere fantasy that comes out from my head… And yeah the story is mine, so… No plagiarism. Enjoy!!

**Chapter One**

_ Every difficulty slurred over will be a ghost to disturb your repose later on. _

\- Fryderyk Chopin

Isabella looked inside her purse frantically for a cigarette without any success as she walked down the stairs of The Royal Albert Hall. Still a little transfixed by the concert she just witnessed she found in frustration that her thesis was going to take even more time to be finished and she would need to push more if she wanted to be the incredible pianist she was meant to be. The feeling of anguish was almost consuming her and she couldn't find her cigarettes.

The Hades prelude was still playing inside her head and unconsciously she moved her long, stylish fingers withdraw blue nail polish as she walked to the building just across the street. She just couldn't shake off that feeling, the level of execution that guy had in the piano was extraordinary, as she remembered it she could feel her fingers hurting by just watching him. Admirable. Flawless and also scary, her ideal of perfection was taken to another level and frustration kicked her in just seconds. As she walked to the building she didn’t notice someone familiar sitting by the stairs. 

“Lynch” She heard a male voice behind her, she turned, still in confusion, to find a familiar face, it was Jim Sturgess, a fellow student of her faculty. Brown hair, brown eyes, slightly taller than her… he also was a complete nutcase. Jim smoked a cigarette, sitting by the stairs with some scores on a folder. 

“You scared the shit out of me Sturgess” She said as she walked a few steps back to sit next to him, without even asking, she took the cigarette from his hand and smoked from it, staring at the street. Jim looked at her and smiled in resignation, she had always been a little bit tomboyish around him and still there was something terribly fascinating about it, probably it was her auburn hair and silvery blue eyes, all enigmatic. For him she was the most complicated human being he had ever know, unpredictable and moody, hell of a nightmare as a friend but in his mind the silent love of his life. She seemed to be out of sorts that day.

“How was the concert?”

“Brilliant!!!!... I'm reevaluating my career choice.” She said all of the sudden, after a long but not awkward silence. 

“You know you're good Lynch, you just push yourself beyond rational limits. you know you can'’t leave music. it wouldn't be you.” He said taking back what was left of his cigarette from her hand, he stood up and touched the top of her head in a sweet caress. “You have to be less obsessive with your work... live a little”. 

With that being said he started walking away from her. Isabella followed him, feeling even more confused, it's been a few weeks since he started being distant, a little harsh and even more honest than usual. She reached down her hand on her pockets and found the lost pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Discussing with him was a really hard thing to do, he was her only friend, in the end, her best friend. 

“Why are you pushing so hard on me Jim?” She asked as she smoked her cigarette, now more calmed. He liked her to call him by his name, but it only happened a few times and he could not seem to identify the reasons. Maybe he was pushing hard on her because he started feeling more obsessed with her every day and that scared him to the death. He didn’t know anything about her far from the usual chats on music and inspiration, those conversations reassured his thoughts: relationships were not in her plans or ideals and she seemed to get along with it. 

He couldn't recall an instant when she mentioned love or emotions. Emotions only came out when she listened to a beautiful play and he had seen her cry, but only as the product of music, not because of someone. In his eyes she was extremely weird and still, she bewitched him.

“You will never get it unless you come out from your world, Lynch” Jim replied with frustration and kept on walking. it was better to leave everything as it was, he would keep on playing puzzles in his mind and would never tell her about his feelings. He wasn't in the mood of discussing. 

Isabella didn't get anything of what was happening and stayed in silence. It was better to stop keep on trying to decipher her best friend, in the end he was as puzzling as her.

\---

He was sitting in the front line, with an expressionless look on his face his thoughts drifted in many directions, places and people as he heard the notes of the piano. Every time he heard the music he felt ecstatic, it was like it possessed him and took him somewhere else, the perfect fantastic evasion from a quite normal and dull reality. 

His blue eyes followed the fingers of the man playing the piano, but still he had no expression on his face. Once the concert was finished he liked to see the people discussing or just digesting what they had experienced. He looked back to the other lines, people smiling, people talking and some others, lonely ones were just trying to understand what they had experienced. Two people caught his attention, one girl who was sitting in the farthest lines and a man just three lines from him, the two of them were still staring at the stage. It took them a while to react and notice that the concert was over, both took their things and left. 

He always felt drawn and fascinated by the effects of music in people, how it transfixed them. 

James McAvoy left the Royal Albert Hall with a smile on his face, the concert had been something extraordinary and he almost felt how the music was still sending shivers through his spine. he couldn’t believe such level of execution, or maybe he would but as a teacher he would always rejoice and feel in awe when one of his students made an incredible job. 

James was part of the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland, he, among other teachers and students had just arrived from Scotland to spend a season in London, preparing concerts and giving some seminars. The expectations he had by coming to London were high, he expected to find great talent but also, exceptional musicians that provided him new perspectives. Such thing was hard to find, but not impossible.

  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isabella's first encounter with "Mr Chopin" aka James McAvoy.

_  
_

James walked through the music section of the library searching for an specific piece, a score, to be more precise. It had to do with Chopin and his Scherzos, he was looking for the Scherzo No. 1 in B minor, Op. 20. One of the most dramatic pieces of Chopin and also one of the hardest to execute. As he looked through the books he got entertained reading about Beethoven. James was an avid reader on history and the stories behind the melodies of his favorite compositors were fascinating for him.

Behind the big bookshelf where James looked for the scores was Isabella, checking out in company of Jim some of the scores by Chopin. Jim passed his fingers through the Nocturnes as he whispered to Isabella. 

“I think you should go for the Nocturnes instead of the scherzos. The universe is wider” he said as he kneeled down to check one of the scores. Isabella sighed without looking back at him and retorted with a normal tone of voice, noticing no one was around to shush her as she spoke.

“Sturgess, I want the Scherzos. Is my thesis, not yours. If you want the nocturnes, go ahead and take them.” Jim looked back at her finding her blue eyes fixed on his, damn, the woman was insufferable that day. And he was thinking about inviting her to dine out just to relax for a while from all the stress from college. So far it seemed like a bad idea. He sighed and waved his hand telling her with a gesture that he didn'’t care.

“I don’t want to take them. Why are you such a machine? Damn Isa! take it easy.” He said as he stood up slowly and looked at her. “I think you need to relax or even have a good drink...” He shove his hair, something he always did when he was stressed. 

“I’ll wait for you outside. The silence is becoming noise for my ears” Jim replied as he took one of the books and walked away. Isabella stared at him in awe.

“The scherzos are harder to execute, I want to be perfect and in order to do that I need discipline.” She tried to say loudly but without importunating the rest of the people that was on the library. She looked back to the shelf, sighing in frustration. Jim was getting weirder every day and still she couldn'’t figure out what it was. Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft, yet manly and elegant voice.

“Simplicity is the highest goal, achievable when you have overcome all difficulties.” She looked up, through the books and the shelf, and saw two blue eyes staring at her, piercing but with a certain expression of fun in them. Isabella blinked a few times, that man, whoever it was, was quoting Chopin and was listening to her discussion with Jim.

“Nice words brought from the grave… Mr Chopin” Isabella replied as she looked down at the book she was meant to find. She wasn'’t in the mood of talking or receiving moral lessons, especially from a stranger in the library. 

James was hearing the discussion and could not help replying to her lasts words, he didn'’t see the woman but certainly she was quite a character. He looked at her through the bookshelf only finding her silvery blue eyes and the bangs of auburn hair falling on her forehead in a messy way. Her reply was kind of dry, something to expect from a british woman like her.

“You'’re taking too seriously your subject of study, whatever it is, Mrs Chopin… perfection shouldn'’t be the goal.” James added as he walked through the hallway made by the bookshelves, looking up and down the books. 

As she heard that, Isabella got defensive, how could a stranger reproach her methods, motivations or whatever thing she did? He was taking too many attributions by "counseling" her. She looked back up, just to find he was walking slowly towards the end of the bookshelf. She noticed his voice, it seemed calmed and yet it had a non-London accent, probably scottish or from the north of England. it was also witty, gentle and at the same time powerful. She didn'’t dislike it at all. 

“Discipline is the bridge between goals and accomplishment” she retorted. If he had a quote for everything certainly she had another one too. it was amazing how a stranger dared to push her buttons and question her movements and aspirations. How dared he?! She wasn'’t going to show her discontent but certainly wouldn'’t shut up hearing such nonsensical lessons.

His words were a mere observation, yet he found amusing the way she retorted and replied to him with quotes of wisdom, he could give her that, even when she sounded a little conceited. Her voice wasn'’t cold but neither warm and had this hint of authoritative tone. By the way she replied it seemed like his presence wasn'’t welcome at all at the place, yet, he wanted to add one last thing. Somehow she reminded him of himself long time ago. He turned to find her eyes staring at him, separated by the bookshelf.

“Dearest Mrs Chopin, let me leave you with some food for thought…  Without deviation from the norm, progress is not possible.” He smiled, at least it looked like he did. He turned and walked away. Isabella was left there with the book open in her hands, thinking. What an strange encounter it was and how much those words caved into her brain? Only Isabella knew that.

  



	3. Chapter 3

_  
_

“Without deviation from the norm, progress is not possible” She whispered as she looked at the scores on front of her. Isabella had been sitting on the piano for about an hour unable to play properly. It was unbelievable how a stranger’s words affected her so much. It never happened before. 

She found herself alone in her bedroom playing nonsensical melodies as she stared at the keys. Why should she “deviate”? That sounded bad, completely out of order. She blinked as she realized she didn’t even know who said that. Quickly she walked to her computer, just a few meters from the piano and typed in the quote “Mr Chopin” just told her. 

“Frank Zappa” she whispered. Not that she didn’t like the man but it was too strange to find someone who was into classical music to quote a rock star. Of course she knew who the man was, it was enough with the rock and roll classes she received from her father when she was a teenager. Not that she didn’t dig rock and roll, it was just that she was way into her studies to even think about the last time she went to a rock and roll concert or even a bar. She had received several invitations from Jim and other people to go to places, have a little disorder, go crazy and get drunk. It wasn’t her style, she preferred to stay home, playing her piano, violin or even the ukelele Jim gave her. Well, she didn’t try it before, so she wasn’t missing something. Was she?

Suddenly, something came to her mind. It was a revelation. Then Jim’s words came up to her mind just like they were brought by an invisible string that was waiting to be pulled. “Live a little”. Wasn’t she living her life to the fullest? To her, all her actions seemed as part of a really complex but carefully designed plan that was marching to the perfection. Why should she add some chaos to the situation? To lose balance? It didn’t sound good. She didn’t even see herself being all social, dancing around and shaking her head, even when she did sometimes, while listening to Led Zeppelin in the solitude of her small apartment. it was a long time since she didn’t take her father’s records.

No, she didn’t have the time to do that. Later on, once she graduated, she would do all those things she suddenly seemed to miss. Not at that time. there was music to be written, scherzos to be played and someone to be crushed. With this on her mind, she shook her hands, turned back to the piano and got back to work.

***

It was funny how a simple chat deviated James from his task of the previous night. He forgot completely about the Scherzos he was looking for by discussing on philosophies of life with a strange woman in the library. Because of that he woke up really early in the morning to go back to the library and get the scores to get to work on them. 

The place where he was staying was a comfortable rented apartment close to the College, and it just took him 10 minutes of walk through parks and nice sidewalks to get to the library. As he got to the section he noticed it was too early and not a soul was there. Nice. He enjoyed empty spaces. 

As he looked for through the scores he noticed the Chopin Scherzos scores were missing, probably another student or professor took them. Filled with a little bit of frustration he went back through the halls of the conservatory. As he walked he thought ti would be a good idea to look for Lucas, one of his students who was supposed to be playing in one of the practice rooms. He felt like listening some music.

***

Certainly it wasn'’t another day in the faculty for Isabella. Things haven't been turning out the way they should and she was in the worst of moods. She found out that there were more students than usual thanks to a congress and some seminars that brought students from Ireland and Scotland to the College. It annoyed her deeply because the amount of people filling practice rooms and halls was bigger. She didn'’t care about making acquaintance with any of them if it wasn't for the sake of her thesis. She had better things to do than socializing. 

Finally, she got to hers. As she walked in she lowered her pace, started to breathe more relax and closed her eyes for a moment. Somehow, entering to such spaces transformed that woman, it was almost as if it all was sacred to her. And it was, indeed. Getting into the depths of music was something beyond any sensorial experience she could have and her spirit got high overtime she found herself in the loneliness of a practice room. 

She left her black bag next to the piano, took out her scores and placed them on the piano's chair. She took of her black woolen coat, revealing a dark gray dress that showed a small part of her legs, leaving the rest to her high gray boots. Her auburn hair was falling on her shoulder, she took a small pencil and made a funny bun of hair and held it with it. almost as part of a ritual she started warming up her fingers and wrists, and before taking he seat she relaxed her shoulders and back. It was time to start if she wanted to go somewhere in life. 

She decided to warm up with the  Nocturne in b flat minor, Op. 9 No. 1 and then start with the scherzos. Her fingers started to move slowly, her left hand always playing the same eight notes as her right hand moved along the rest of the keys. Once se finished the piece she decided to start with the complex thing. She opened the score book and decided to go for the Scherzo No 1. A dramatic and fast piece. 

She closed her eyes and drifted into her thoughts. Somehow that melody always reminded her of Oxford. Isabella was so into her thoughts that she didn't notice someone coming into the room.

To James’ surprise it wasn’t Lucas playing the piano, instead, he found a dark haired girl wearing a gray dress, he meant to leave but it was incredible seeing her hands moving along the piano keys, he caught some mistakes in the execution but it was a good level indeed. He started to feel intrigued, her hands seemed delicate, long and her fingers moved gracefully. He felt delighted. Before he could even think about leaving the girl practicing she stopped suddenly and turned her face to find him close to the door. 

Isabella’s eyes found a man standing at the entrance of the room. She didn’t notice his presence until she opened her eyes after being so concentrated and with the corner of her eye saw a shadow. He wasn’t too tall but certainly not short, he had black hair and was wearing a black coat and some dark blue jeans. He just stood there, staring at her. She noticed he had sparking blue eyes that almost shone across the room, they were staring right at hers. She felt a cold shiver and finally reacted.

“May I help you?” She asked as she turned to him with a quizzical brow. Then it hit him, she was Mrs Chopin, from the library, inside he grinned at the thought of everything that went on the previous day and how they were meant to meet there, again. Finally he saw her, properly, let’s say that seeing someone’s eyes wasn’t enough for him. He found her graceful and yet, a little tomboyish, probably by the way she used to stare sometimes. 

Isabella looked at the man, he didn’t look like a student but she could not tell, he didn’t look like a professor either, he seemed too young. 

“Sorry... wrong room” he whispered with a funny gesture as he turned to the door and left the room. Why did he leave without any ironic remark or mention to the events of the previous day or their encounter, he didn’t know, he just felt like leaving her, she seemed absorbed and he would not keep her away from such inspiring moment.


	4. Chapter 4

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_

_If you wanna listen to the soundtrack is highly recommended. You can[download it here](http://www.mediafire.com/?ah7cpk0ln7ighk2). _

__

**Chapter 4**

There was something that was keeping Jim restless, not only the fact that he was getting carried away by how much he liked Isabella, which wasn’t a secret for anyone in London, except her. What troubled him was the fact that he was starting to feel more things and always felt the impulse of telling her. He felt kind of idiotic by that, she was so oblivious about all things related to feelings and people, the external world. 

Curiously Isabella showed Jim a big part of her world, more than she would dare normally. She let him listen and read what she wrote, most part of that, songs; he started to understand that inside her there was another universe and by the little peeks she let him see through it was fascinating. He just didn’t know how to approach her socially. She never went out, it was strange when she dared to drink a beer or two and lately she had been a little absent minded. 

He tried to shove off the thoughts of her as he saw her walking down the stairs of the faculty. As if seeing her would help on the fact of not thinking about her lips and everything attached to them. She waved with one hand and with the other she seemed to be looking for the usual, cigarettes. He reached down his hand on his pockets and took out a lighter. 

“How was your day?” He asked as he lit up her cigar. His eyes found hers for a moment and kept her glimpse. It was weird, she was in a good mood after her rehearsal, it was something liberating, she even felt like talking. it was after a small moment that Isabella noticed his glimpse was fixed on her eyes, she blinked a little bit puzzled, took off a strand of hair from her face and looked away, he had been acting so strange lately, probably he was in trouble and needed to talk about it. She didn’t know. 

“Oddly enough it was fantastic. I feel accomplished, I even feel like taking you to drink a beer with me”. Her reply surprised Jim. Isabella Lynch, talking about beers and being in a good mood, the next thing would be that pigs started to fly. 

“Is there something wrong with you?” He asked with disbelief. 

“You’re the one that’s being acting strange these days. Let’s go mate, tell me your problems.” She said as she took his left arm and started walking. in Jim’s mind all he could think was ‘Pigs are going to fly’.

***

Isabella had only three beers and she was almost the soul do the place. There was a rock band playing, they were friends of Jim, it was a long time since she didn’t socialize properly and it was fun to see some familiar faces from college around. She was laughing, talking about music and kidding with James. No, she wasn’t drunk but she was getting tipsy, in her head it all seemed funny and happy that day, except for Jim’s face of disbelief, he was smiling, yes, but not as the Jim she knew.

“What’s up with you Jim, mate? Are you heartbroken?” She asked being a little imprudent. In her kind the reason why all men used to act weird was because either they were heartbroken or falling in love. No other option. Jim blinked a few times, sighed and drank from his beer before giving her an answer, he was still considering what to do about the turmoil he had inside, he wasn’t the kind of man to suffer for a girl and yet he enjoyed the drama and excitement of that. 

He had never seen her being so spontaneous, except while playing an instrument. She was a genius, but let’s say there was a lot to do about her, still. Her temper was terrible, she was so disciplined that forgetting fun made her awfully boring at times... If only he could tell her that,

“There’s something that’s bugging me, but I’m not sure if you’re the proper person to talk about it with. You’re, somehow, related to it.” He finally replied. He needed more beer if he was going to say something but didn’t want to be drunk either or she would not take it seriously.

“I knew it! Bug me, I want to know! I want to listen to a story. Yours are nice” She replied as she looked at him with a smile on her eyes. She didn’t know why but he was one of the few people she felt close and comfortable with to talk about anything. She could be a heartless person at times but listening to stories made her mind drift into worlds and create different endings, depict the characters and even make up new ones. Somehow the beer got to her head to ignore the part where he said it was related to her, or maybe, her ind selectively ignored that fact, for the sake of her sanity.

“Alright... It is hard to tell, though...”

“Jim Sturgess with nothing to say”. She replied as she leaned forward to look closer at his eyes. “You can confess your secrets. I won’t tell anybody”. Now, that mischievous smile she made there as she looked at him wasn’t helping at all. Something inside Jim just felt like leaning forward too and kiss her. But it would be too bold and knowing her, she night just end up slapping his face. No... he couldn’t do it.

“Oi! Jim! Come on over and play with us” There was a voice calling him, it broke the spell from Isabella’s eyes and was the perfect excuse to avoid the confession. He stood up, blinked an eye to her -why did he do that?- and walked towards the band. He came up with an idea. 

Isabella remained on her seat, cheered with the beer on her hand and waited for them to start playing. That was fun, all of that: the people, the beer, Jim and his crazy ideas of having a band, the laughs... She needed more of that in her life. At least it seemed to. 

“This next song is for you” Isabella heard Jim say on the microphone as he got prepared to play the guitar. Isabella didn’t quite get it but she expected with excitement what he was going to play. Inside Jim hoped she would get the message, or at least that she didn’t run away in the instant.

_ Is there anybody going to listen to my story _

_ All about the girl who came to stay? _

_ She's the kind of girl you want so much _

_ It makes you sorry _

_ Still you don't regret a single day. _

_ Ah girl, girl...  _

****

Isabella was blissful, probably because of the beer, or because of the song, or the novelty of such evening plan, or the combination of all it. She liked the song he sang to her, still she tried not to give it much importance, even when it had, there was a message in there that she knew existed but didn’t dare to accept due to her almost, inexperience on sentimental matters. She didn’t know what to do. Still, it was a warm feeling in her heart. As she walked with her hands on her pockets she looked at Jim who had a peaceful gesture in his face. He was walking her home, after drinking more beer and talking about nothing.

Jim was getting along with the fact that she didn’t run away, and it was enough for him, but she didn’t even say a word about the song. She seemed happy though. What to do? All night he had been craving to kiss her and get close to her and everytime he had the impulse of doing it someone came up to them or she got distracted... It wasn’t lack of valor, it was lack of chances. He should make up one then.

As they reached the door of Isabella’s building he dared to ask.

“Did you have fun?” He meant if he liked the song, but his tongue always messed up the messages he made up in his brain and changed them into something different.

“It was... brilliant!” Isabella replied as she gave a little jump to the front and turned to look at him. She was a little drunk. “You’re fun Jim.” She added as she pointed her right hand to him. Why she didn’t say anything? It was like she was avoiding the topic, but it wasn’t her fault. His lack of “specific speech” ruined it all. This was a golden chance and if he didn’t take it he would be in pain for the rest of his life. They were already in front of her building. 

Isabella was looking for, erratically, the keys of the building. Jim might not have the impulse or the genius to make up words for speech but was no coward and liked to take risks. He took her hand, stopping her from doing what she was doing, getting her attention.

She looked up at him and in a sudden moment she felt his lips on hers. There was no restrain from any of the parts. Instinctively, Isabella lifted up her hands to Jim’s neck, getting closer to him. Somehow she was not responsible for her movements, but still, being the rational (extremely) being she was, it all felt too good to stop it.


	5. Chapter 5

Isabella moved her fingers smoothly along the piano keys as she thought about the events of the previous night. Jim kissed her and almost didn’t let her go inside her apartment after a long, tender and, lets admit it, romantic make out session. She didn’t want to leave either but it was weird. It was like if a veil was taken from her eyes. He liked her, he had for a long time. The weight of such revelation overwhelmed her, that was the hard part, she almost had forgotten how to deal with romantic love in the real world. She didn’t have had something like a kiss or a relationship since her first semesters of college. 

Not that she didn’t experience love in the full extent of the word, but the experience was so hard that when it all was over she ended up exhausted creatively and emotionally to even dare to have another adventure such as that one. Then music became her small refuge and shell. She liked it that way. But now what? She was stepping again in quick sand with no other than her best friend. What a whole new level of... everything. 

Oddly enough, in spite of not knowing how to handle the situation, she felt happy and relieved. The voices in the hall brought her back to reality. She took her gray bag and her white coat and walked out from the practice room.

*****

“Do you know when can I have that score book?” James asked with a little bit of urgency to the librarian. He really needed to study those scherzos and the fact that the book wasn’t there was not funny. They were supposed to have copies of that, not just one. He looked around in frustration as the librarian politely asked him to wait for a moment as he looked at something in his screen.

“The book is supposed to be here by the end of the day, Mr?”

“McAvoy, professor McAvoy” He answered with a little despair.

“Professor McAvoy, if you want you can come back in two or three hours. The student must bring it back today.” The brown eyed guy replied and motioned him to walk around or take a seat, whatever it was, he didn’t feel like going anywhere else. He had to wait until the person, whoever it was, brought back the score book. He stood there, looking at some of the returned books, without noticing that Lady Chopin had arrived and was standing next to him.

“Hey John”

As he heard the familiar voice he lifted his eyes from the book he was looking at to find no other but the girl who was playing the piano the other day in the practice room, Mrs Chopin. 

“Isabella, how are you today?” 

“I’m fine, thank you. I come to  bring these two back and to renew this one” She said as she handled him some books. She noticed the man next to her had been looking at her for a while, being the kind of person she was she didn’t dare to look back for a while but it was getting annoying. Finally she looked at him back, what she first saw were two bright blue eyes, fixed on hers. They looked incredibly familiar, she blinked a few times, until she realized...

“I’m sorry-”

“We meet again-”

“Professor McAvoy, is this the book you were asking for?” John interrupted Isabella’s and James’ speech and at the same time the spell from his eyes. He looked at him, grabbed the book and took a look. Yes it was, and she had it. Oh, the odds. Isabella raised her brow quizzically, He was a professor? He didn’t look like one. why didn’t she see him before? She knew everyone in the faculty. 

“Yes, this is the book I need” He answered and Isabella proved right, he was Mr Chopin, from the other day. His eyes looked brighter for some reason and he looked a little bit taller than the day they met in the practice room. The she noticed the book he was holding, it was the one she was meaning to renew.

“Mrs Chopin, what a surprise.” James gave her a sympathetic look.

“My name is Isabella Lynch. Thank you.” Isabella replied, extending her hand. Her voice sharp as a knife.

“James McAvoy. I must say you’re quite impressive, I heard you the other day.” James added as he shook hands with her. He didn’t mean to say he was impressed by her, even when he was, he didn’t want to make it sound like he was flirting, he could never help himself and the deadly vacuum of charm he was when he spoke.

“Thank you Mr McAvoy, but I still think I need improvement, now if you excuse me, I need to go and accomplish things.” She didn’t think about the book or anything, for some strange reason she wanted to leave, she could not bear the weight of his stare, it was too much, she felt like he was reading inside her, taking away all the layers. 

“As inflexible as the day I met you.” James replied holding the book between his two hands. John just stared, wondering what was going on there.

“I have things to do.” She tried to look at him and hold his gaze but it was too much. She passed her right hand through the auburn bangs that were falling on her forehead, fixed them and answered, in the most calmed way.

“You’re not taking the book with you?” James asked as he reached his hand to hold her arm. Isabella turned, totally discombobulated. She never acted so coyly with people, why she was feeling so uneasy around that man?

“You can keep it, under the promise you will leave it back tomorrow.” She said as she walked away, barely turning to face him. She needed to go out and fast.

“If you need it you can take it now”

  
“No, you take it.” She answered automatically, as if having something he needed created a compromise. 

“Then, I will see you tomorrow” He said, Isabella blinked a few times, she didn’t arrange a meeting and now he was making an appointment. James didn’t have any other intention than discover, and why not, annoy such interesting character. 

“Brilliant... Have a good afternoon”. She resigned, as long as she could leave that place. James stood there, amused by the sudden change of attitude of the girl. Shrugging he took the book and got ready to leave the library as well, he had to bring the book back the next day and it was going to be a long night.

*****

“We need to talk, Sturgess.” She said. In Jim’s mind everything turned upside down, surely she was going to apologize for last night and probably she was regretting all that happened. Now all the bliss he had would go down the drain and he would feel as helpless as a homeless child. 

Isabella was standing as he was sitting on the stairs that leaded to the Royal Albert Hall. Night was falling and she was smoking a cigarette eagerly. She didn’t know if she should kiss him hello or just do what she normally did... She sat next to him, a little uneasy from the encounter with the despicable Professor McAvoy. She looked at him and kissed him on the cheek. Those signals confused Jim even more. What was she playing at?

“About last night I guess...” Jim passed his hand through his hair, still looking at her and leant back on the back step. 

“Right... You see...” She started, as she played with the shoelaces of her boots, without looking at him. “I’m not good at this...” She was trying to make up a coherent speech, explain herself. “I didn’t even know how to say hello to you... I don’t know anything. It all was a surprise”. 

Jim looked at her, somehow he always fell fascinated by the way she talked, she could be breaking up the non-existent relationship they had and she had a way to make it all sound so... musical and beautiful. He could not help it and touched her face, just like he did last night.

“What do you want Isabella?” He asked, damn straight he wanted to know what was going to happen there. Isabella didn’t have a concrete answer. Just hints, hunches... For the first time she felt uncertain about things.

“I can’t tell you exactly... But if it suffices you, I liked last night and I like right now.” Of course it was to expect an answer like that from her, Jim thought. She wasn’t what you call common and after all the normal girls he dated, the newness of it all just drew him closer, like a moth to the light.

“If you’re up to keep on trying and liking this “ _something_ ” even more, it is enough for me.” With this being said Jim looked at her waiting for an answer. Isabella smiled and nodded. She didn’t know what was going to happen in a week, a month or a year, but the feeling of it all made her crave intensely for it, once more. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isabella is getting involved with Jim. James thinks about his past and present. Context chapter.

 

_  
_

James sat in front of the piano, stretched his fingers and hands before starting, he looked through the window of the practice room. It was a long time since he sat quietly in front of a piano, without the pressure of pleasing someone. Lately he had been doing as he pleased and everything was turning out fine. Probably it was the free spirit of the academy that made him feel that liberty, maybe it was London. Yet somehow the place seemed a little dark.

  


He started playing the piano without any song in his mind, just passing his hands through the keys... He liked doing that, it was almost like automatic writing, but instead of using a pen he played the notes and it all seemed like a message only he, or someone who knew him, could understand. The melody sounded a little low, but he wasn’t... No, he wasn’t the kind of person who let himself be possessed by moods, he tried to keep them straight, rather than having ups and downs. Somehow he was really rational. When it came to passion, he had one, and clearly, it was music. He couldn’t recall having another thing in his life that provided him such excitement and inspiration as music. Well, probably women, but that was another story. 

  


In his mind James compared music with women, and his history with music was the same as well with females: he found exceptional pieces/women, he liked deciphering them, once it was done, he lost all interest in the matter and then changed to a different one, with a whole new rhythm or look... and so on.

  


Lately he had been wandering on his own, by lack of interest in women in general. Maybe Glasgow was boring, and maybe he was changing or at least, getting over the vice of getting someone new the instant he left the previous relationship. London wasn’t brand new ground, but things had changed, years had passed and he was... emotionless. Somehow the trip brought him back to life in all aspects, indeed, he needed some fresh air and a change of location.

  


When he came back from his thoughts, he was playing in the piano, aimlessly. He decided to get serious and start, but it was already time to leave the practice room. Somehow he felt uninspired, yet he had a small concert to give in a little while.

**

Isabella ran down the stairs of the faculty, she was late to meet Jim and the reunion with her thesis director was endlessly long. She didn’t remember a thing he said, she just heard something about a posssible trip by the end of the month. She had no mind to think about it, somehow the only thing she was longing was to go out and play music of her own. 

  


As she approached the entrance of the building she spotted Jim, he was facing the street and was smoking a cigarette. She walked slowly towards him and tapped his left shoulder. As he turned he didn’t find anyone, she ran to his right and started laughing. He turned and held her from her waist and kissed her forehead as she was still laughing.

  


“Come with me bird... I’ll take you somewhere fun.” He said as he held her hand. Isabella had to stop by the library to pick up the book of the Scherzos the abominable professor McAvoy had.

  


“But I have to go to the library, I won’t take long.”

  


“Come on! you can go on the morrow! Where we are going can’t wait.” Jim looked at her with silly puppy dog eyes and she could not resist. Not that she wanted to meet with McAvoy or have another discussion with him... Not that she felt like studying that night. There was something about Jim that made her feel careless, it was like she discovered a newborn freedom from something she was holding inside.

****

  


James went back to the library earlier just to give back the book. To his shame he could not wait until Mrs Chopin appeared just to make fun of her or make her life a little impossible. That evening he had a small concert on the small theater of the faculty. Nothing fancy or elegant, just a small sample of the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland. He looked through the curtains and saw how the place was getting crowded. It was a long time since he played for an audience.

  


*****

  


“Since you’re so absorbed with your piano I thought seeing this might inspire you a bit” Jim said as they took a seat in the theater, it was a small concert by some students and professors of the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland. Isabella smiled, concerts were what she loved the most and going with Jim was a total experience, they always ended up talking for hours after them. How didn’t she notice him again before? She felt like she had been blind for such a long time...

  


The concert started with one of the students making an incredible interpretation of Schubert’s Impromptu (Op. 90 N.4). That was one of Isabella’s favorite pieces by the way he made the cascading arpegios… The falling down to a valley of quietness. For Isabella music was another scenario and a place where everything was possible, she could feel she could play anything when she went to a concert. Jim who studied music as well was a fan of another kind of music but he found fascinating the piano, just as Isabella, but he decided to take the way of composition and arrangements than interpretation. 

  


After Schubert’s piece, were two interpretations by teachers. The first one they saw was made by professor Alfie Carter. He played the impromptu number 1, Op. 29. A beautiful piece full of grace and hard in execution. Isabella was astounded by the speed of Carter’s fingers. Time went by so fast until they called the next professor. Her heart jumped with surprise when she heard the name James McAvoy. So that was it, that’s why she didn’t recognize him. He was one of the professors part of the Royal Conservatoire, how didn’t she notice, his scottish accent said it all. Feeling a little stupid she stared at him defiantly. It was time to see how good he was and if it was enough to excuse his shamelessness and conceit when it came to matters of discipline.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The concert and Isabella's realization.

The Nocturne in G minor (Op. 15 Nº 3) was the choice of the night for James. It wasn’t only one of his favorite nocturnes, it was a very personal piece. He was working on it and learnt it by the time his former girlfriend died due to a car crash in Edinburgh. Those were tragic days and the fact that the piece had the stain and stigma of funeral and cemetery on it made it even more sinister. He wasn’t able to play it for a long while, his grades went downhill and he got refuge in alcohol. Really dark days that now seemed like a bad dream, almost unbelievable.

 

As he started playing the slow introduction of the song he remembered it all as if it was yesterday. It felt like a whisper from the past, a postcard sent to remind him of that was left to live. As he played he closed his eyes and let himself be invaded by the mixture of emotions: rage, sadness and restrain. Still the nocturne held a place in his heart and he could not conceive not playing it. Lauren was just 25 when she died, James loved her to death and somehow she was the sweetheart that made his school and college days brighter; somehow such amount of happiness had to be compensated with pain, and of the worst kind. Yet, somehow, he understood that none of that was going to last forever and that spiraling into depression would not bring that angel back. 

 

Isabella stared in awe and concentration, as the song reached a crescendo and a cascade she felt something. The choice of a piece for a concert is like choosing the topic for a message, she always thought it that way and the fact that he played such gloomy piece spoke about certain pain, but also a certain story that came to an expected end. The nocturne in G minor, meant for her, aside from the intentions of the man playing it, a requiem and a scene of resignation. She knew the story of the nocturne: Chopin composed it after going to a Hamlet play and named it originally “At the cemetery”. Sinister. 

 

Part of the greatness of Chopin’s works resides in the level of execution and the intention of the player more than the difficulty. In Isabella’s eyes, Professor McAvoy reached a high level of knowledge of Chopin’s work or got attached to it by some strange reason. She could see it by the way he played, closed his eyes and had a small smirk on his face by the end of the song. She could say it because she could read him and it happened quite often that she dared to read further in the player’s intentions, it was almost a vice, the necessity to look for the emotions that she lacked in real life in someone else's.

 

What was particular about the piece, and what attracted James to it was the fact that it ended in a way no one expected: it went from grief to drama and ended up in a subtle, almost delicate and romantic way, like a walk in the park or sailing quietly on a lake. He could almost feel a smirk on his face as he reached the final third of the song. It was probably the satisfaction of knowing that music spoke for itself and only the ones who looked closely would get the message: after grief comes hope. After that, no one knows.

 

Something changed in Isabella’s mind once the piece was over, probably it was the discovery and proof of his humanity, somehow that man that seemed so annoying and serious had a heart and deep emotions, just like her. It was like seeing her nemesis, recognizing it and understanding that there’s more than meets the eye. She was also fascinated about talking to him about the depth of Chopin’s work and how he managed to perceive and translate everything he wrote music wise. She even thought about consulting him for her thesis, it would be a great source of information and experience.

 

“I’m thinking about talking to professor McAvoy.” Isabella said as they walked out the theater. 

 

“What for?” Jim asked, without surprise but still, curious. 

 

“He might be useful for my thesis”.

 

“I thought you loathed the man” He pointed out with a grin on his face, she would never stop surprising him, she was somewhat a fearful person to behold. 

 

“I did… but there are means to an end.” Isabella took Jim’s hand and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected conversation.

She came into the professor’s room without any care. Nobody seemed to be there, bad luck. She walked back in her footsteps, wandering aimlessly through the faculty. She needed to talk to Professor McAvoy, he would be the perfect addition to her thesis, a new point of view; somehow she could not describe how impressed she was by his performance last night. She walked around biting her nail without noticing someone was following her.

“I think discipline brought you here early on a saturday morning, Mrs Chopin.” Scottish accent. It had to be. She turned and found McAvoy walking towards her, he was looking particularly fresh, or maybe it was the change of scenario that made her see him under a new different light. She extended her hand to shake his’. He took it and felt how cold, fragile but firm it was. To Isabella it was a normal shake, not without noticing his warmth.

“Good morning professor. Actually it wasn’t discipline, it was you who brought me here.” She answered. She didn’t mean to sound so straight and to the point but there was no need of formalities or going around the bushes when it came to music. 

“Me? How come?” James asked with a hint of curiosity and a smirk on his face.

“I watched you yesterday, in the auditorium. I must say the way you played that Nocturne was… flabbergasting”. As she said this she could not help but make a gesture with her hands just like her head was exploding. She couldn’t come up with another word. It was the first time James saw such display of a feeling in such cold woman, he found it cute and for an instant he felt smitten.

“Nobody has ever referred to my execution as “flabbergasting”. I think not even about anything else in my life. Thank you”. He said putting a hand in his heart. He always did those things, actioning with his hands, he could not stay quiet. Isabella brushed her hair with a hand and looked at him, directly in the eye.

“Your interpretation told me a lot about your knowledge on Chopin. Only someone who really studied the chap could tell about the depth of that nocturne and play it in such a way… I mean… The sadness, then… how it all turns to hope and light…” Then she noticed she was getting carried away, she was talking more than she should and she was showing how much she craved working with him or at least having his quotation on her thesis. It was a matter of depth, it call came down to the fact that she never saw someone playing that way and she never got a message so clear.

 _She paid attention_ , he thought. Usually he got compliments on his execution, but it didn’t go further than an observation on his technical skills more than the feeling and true message of the song. It never happened before, not even with a fellow professor, not with anybody he knew. And now there was this student talking to him about all that he didn’t dare to say or discuss.

“How it all came out from a black hole and brought us back to life.” He replied, almost filling the blank on her speech. Isabella just blinked a few times, ecstatic, wishing she could nod mentally. James noticed he was giving it much thought. It usually happened when he was taken by surprise.

“I will help you, if you do something.” He said, bringing his left hand to his mouth, almost mischievously. Isabella waited for his request, not that he was going to ask her to have sex with him or something, he didn’t seem that kind of man. “You won’t work on your thesis on weekends.” That easy. She stood there, watching him walk away through the hall of the faculty as he carried his black jacket over his shoulder. 

“See you on monday, Isabella”.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isabella starts discussing her "motivations" with James

Isabella considered the words James told her. Maybe she was giving it too much time or importance to something that was crucial professionally and was forgetting about the essentials of life. Maybe that was what he meant, he wasn’t far from the truth when he thought that she was too strict, but did everybody else think the same? As she walked towards Jim’s apartment she considered asking him what did he think of her, seriously. That evening he invited her to have dinner prepared by him. She had never been at his place, not because He didn’t invite her, it was because she was always busy when he threw parties or made small jams there.

 

As she approached the building she looked up. She knew it was important, that whether she wanted to think about it or not he wanted to do something more than cuddling and kissing innocently. Not that she didn’t want to do it, it was about time to get back in shape and he was so tender and irresistible that the thought of it aroused her a little. As she walked up the stairs she could hear the music pumping from his apartment, The Beatles were playing on his stereo, full volume and she could even hear him sing over it. She rang the bell with a little smile. 

 

Jim opened the door, he was wearing some dark blue jeans and a black sweater, he was completely barefoot. Isabella found his smile and bright eyes charming and threw herself to him, in an attempt of being spontaneous, it didn’t turn out that bad but still she didn’t feel herself that much. She kissed him, eagerly as he closed the door clumsily. Jim found it unbelievable, she was there and she was real. For her, it all seemed like an illusion and she wasn’t sure if it was good or bad either, still she let go of reason.

 

****

 

“How was your weekend Mrs Chopin” James asked Isabella as she sat across the table, in the small café across the library. She frowned for a second and then looked through the window, it was weird being called after the last name of a hero. 

 

“It was good. Why do you still call me like that?” She looked at him frowning quizzically. James just laughed and leant back on the chair, staring at her with amusement. Then he took a straw and started mixing the sugar with his coffee. Just one cube.

 

“Well I thought you enjoyed the title somehow.”

 

“I’d prefer that you call me by my name, thank you.” 

 

“Okay Isabella. Now, I would like to ask a favor from you.” James leaned forward on the table, like making a confidence to her. “Can you just relax, since the moment I met you you’ve showed this defensiveness. You can call me James if you want to.” It was amusing for him, such behavior wasn’t typical of a young girl like her, but knowing the background of several musicians it wasn’t weird, maybe she grew up conditioned by an structured thought. Isabella found that strange, even when, she felt like calling him by his name from the start, he didn’t look like a professor and didn’t inspire her that academic mood, it was indescribable, she just felt she could take all she could from him, like an incredible source of wisdom.

 

“I can’t promise you that. But, alright. James.”

 

“What do you want me to help you with?” Hands to the business, everything was like that with James, no going through the bushes. 

 

“My thesis” Isabella answered as she took a sip from he cup of tea and stared at the black covered folder she had next to her. 

 

“What is it about?” 

 

“Chopin. It is a new approach to his works, especially his scherzos. It all comes down to the fact that those pieces are so charged dramatically, adding to that the dedications and rumors of the stories behind.” Isabella was trying her best to sound secure and loose, she loved her research but she received lots of criticism from some professors, their opinion was that it all was already studied and there was no point on getting deeper into that. 

 

“You mean a psychological approach?” James got the idea, barely, still he was curious about the motivations that leaded her to take such topic, it wasn’t common to do something about pieces already studied. 

 

“Yes and no… What I mean to do is show how all the emotional baggage of a musician can lead to the composition of incredible pieces. It is more about the motivations, Chopin is the example I took, since I know him so well. I’m trying to make a general point.” It was so hard to explain, she felt like she could not even say it with words, it was just sheer curiosity about the world of feelings that lead her to the matter. It was a strange topic for James, not unknown, but strange, no wonder she was looking for opinions, many academics found those things boring and pointless. 

 

“May I ask about your motivation? What leaded you to pick this topic? Don’t get me wrong but most of your fellow colleagues are working in contemporary matters, things that are left to be said and discovered.” She knew he was going there, not only because it was what everyone wondered, everyone tried to make a point in her work.

 

“Because I like to know the personal motivations of musicians.” Isabella answered quickly, then took a sip of her tea and stared firmly at him, it was an awkward interview.

 

“I know that. But to reach those motivations I would, take the empiric side. What are your motivations when you play, what is your baggage of knowledge in the matter.” Obviously she was trying to approach the topic for personal reasons, whichever they were. Isabella knew he was finding out about that and wouldn’t dare to admit it. 

 

“What are you suggesting?” 

 

“I’m suggesting you’re trying to know more about something because it has to do directly with a personal situation of yours. That’s the main motivation, that’s why it has that name. Motive… Motif. Which is not bad but requires a little bit more of… experience”. He emphasized the last word as she looked at her. He didn’t know about her personal life but only a really personal interest would lead her to do such research, it was almost romantic and literary and she had the looks of being such a character. Isabella was speechless, she felt like he was telling her she wasn’t experienced enough in life or any other matter, she felt a rush of anger coming. 

 

“I’m not saying you’re inexperienced, whatsoever. You just need to explore more of those emotions you wish to talk about in your thesis. I don’t know which emotions are those.” He dropped the words in the right moment before she retorted with some harmful remarks, in which, she was an specialist. What was he trying to say? She felt totally lost.

 

It is like when you talk about theories you research and read about them. It is the same about feelings, motivations and reasons. Put yourself in the shoes of the other.” With this being said he finished his coffee and looked through the window. Isabella remained silent, drinking her cup of tea slowly. Thinking.

 

“Let’s make a deal. I will read your work and I will tell you what I think. I’m familiar with Chopin but my reasons to treat his pieces as I do have different purposes.” He had to make that clear, even when he didn’t want to go any further in explanations. 

 

“What purposes are those?” She could not help but ask.

 

“We’re discussing your work Isabella, not mine. Look for me on wednesday, I’ll be at the Royal Albert Hall in a rehearsal. Here’s my card. And in the meantime, you will listen to those scherzos and will tell me what you think about them… wait… no… not what you think. What you FEEL about them.” He handled her his card and smiled. Isabella looked at it and nodded. She had to wait after all, and she had to keep on working.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James realization of something and Isabella's wish to experiment.

“…Chopin played, sang his most delicious songs; we set to these joyous or sad airs the words which came into our heads; we followed with our thoughts his melodious caprices. There were some twenty of us, sincere amateurs, true believers, and not a note was lost, not an intention was misunderstood; it was not a concert, it was intimate, serious music such as we love; he was not a virtuoso who comes and plays the air agreed upon and then disappears; he was a beautiful talent, monopolised, worried, tormented, without consideration and scruples, whom one dared ask for the most beloved airs, and who full of grace and charity repeated to you the favourite phrase, in order that you might carry it away correct and pure in your memory, and for a long time yet feast on it in remembrance.”

—

| 

**Madame de Girardin, on Chopin**  
  
---|---  
  
 

James read Isabella’s work eagerly. Sitting at the professor’s room, he drank tea and listened to Chopin, as he should, to get into the atmosphere. 

 

It was interesting to read her because there was some kind of sensitivity in the text and all the analysis she had so far, but still, there was something missing. She got part of Chopin’s ideas, she got the sheer feeling of despair sometimes, but still she couldn’t seem to hold it and do something it with because there was something missing. What was that? He didn’t know. Maybe there was a lack of passion, he knew that it was there, he heard her speak, he saw her talk about it and it was overwhelming. But something was not right.

 

When he approached Chopin’s works he did because he was in a painful situation and he wanted to hold on to something, music was there and he found comfort and catharsis on it. That was it. There was some catharsis missing. Somehow through the text you could see how she felt the interest on it, but the passion wasn’t there, written, the passion showed when she did something more physical like talking or playing, not theorizing it like she did when she wrote. Leaving the manuscript aside he took a sip of his tea, it was going to be complicated to expect a catharsis from someone who seemed to be hermetic. 

 

************

 

The next days were strange for Isabella. She spent the whole week and weekend listening to Chopin’s work, in silence and trying to concentrate on whatever happened in her mind and soul. Sometimes she would stay in her apartment, alone, staring through the window, she played with the scrabble letters she had on her desk… Sometimes when she was at Jim’s she would put her earphones on and listen to it, closing her eyes o staring at him with a funny poker face. 

 

Jim just stared at her sometimes with amusement and other with a little concern. She took notes, she closed her eyes and sometimes she ended up falling asleep… One afternoon as she sat on the couch, next to him, ready to start her research with another song she looked at him and wondered.

 

“What do you feel wen you listen to him?” She started playing with her hair as she expected an answer. It was all complicated, he could say something she didn’t agree with or something totally out of context.

 

“I can’t tell you, I don’t listen to him so much… All I know is that he seems a little dark for me” He finally dared to answer. Jim and Isabella were two separate worlds that got together by having one thing in common and it was that both knew the big differences between that inner world and the real universe. He did try to understand why she worked so hard for that, what he didn’t was why with that composer. Jim was more a fan of contemporary music and new ways to make it, Isabella was classical, structured, with a taste for traditions, old forms and all the things that gave birth to what we know.

 

“I don’t think he’s dark… He just had bad luck sometimes.” She didn’t find much grief as people said there was on his works. She found desperation and a fever, the kind of feeling that gets you when everything is so intense that it overwhelms you. But how could she describe that knowing damn well she haven’t felt that before? Why was that feeling so certain? Maybe james was right when he said there was some experience lacking, some knowledge in certain matters but how could she approach it?

 

“What makes you feel intense things?” 

 

“Regarding?” Jim was puzzled. 

 

“Everything… life.”

 

“You. I’d never known this before.” He answered clearly, touching her face and passing his hands through her hair, how could he deny the point of it all? What he had there with her meant the world. Isabella looked at him, with a little disappointment she discovered she could not feel an INTENSE thing there, still it was a beautiful moment and being with him brought a joy to her life. 

 

“What is that feeling? Can you describe it?”

 

“I can’t theorize this Isabella… I just know it’s there and overpowers me.” Jim felt a little frustrated, dealing with her rational mind was the hardest part of being with her. Isabella wishfully thought she could develop that, because emotions take time to grow, she wanted to be at that point with Jim, feeling that thing overpowering her, but right there, it didn’t. She didn’t feel bad or scared, but it was curious and interesting. She could experiment with that.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James doesn't want to talk about something and Isabella wants to take him to the edge.

The days passed and Isabella developed a certain tradition with James and it was to sit, almost every afternoon in the café across the street of the library to chat and discuss. They spent the last two weeks speaking about the possible related feelings Chopin may have had to write his scherzos and nocturnes, making up the skeleton for Isabella’s proposal and initial idea for an original piece. Their interviews sometimes extended until late hours at night, almost being kicked out from the place or interrupted by Jim’s calls to Isabella asking about where she was.

Jim started complaining a bit about the tradition of meeting with him, she used to lose track of time and forget to get in time to appointments or he saw himself forced to go meet her as she said good bye to James. In Jim’s eyes James was just another professor, just as crazy as Isabella, she seemed to find another Chopin obsessive-compulsive. All she did was talk about Chopin, find connections between music and pieces he used to show her, she was like a little kid, excited about knowledge, he liked seeing her like that. 

Lately Isabella found herself thinking and paying more attention to the emotions that inspired her to write and compose pieces, she noticed most of them came from the fact that she longed to see some places, feel some emotions or just arose from questions about people’s nature. She could be a cold woman outside but she liked to see people’s behaviour. She even dared to write a piece about Jim, which was still under construction, she felt it lacked something. But the thing that was puzzling her more, was all she read about Chopin and death, somehow she related them but she could not put her finger on what was that specific thing that made her find that connection.

“Do you think Chopin longed for death?” Isabella asked James as she sat in front of him at the café. In her mind the curiosity aroused after reading about his life, he was a troubled character with a pretty uncommon life; the sickness all along his life, the failure of commitment with his teenager love and the discovery of real love in the arms of George Sand after loathing the woman. Such was life. Isabella didn’t have a troubled life and found herself impeded to relate in such matters, but all the drama went inside her head. How could she explain everything that happened inside there?

“Well, I don’t think he was suicidal at a certain time, but he certainly felt curious about such mystery.” James took off the glimpse from his book and looked at her. She looked particularly radiant that day, she was wearing a white coat and jeans. He never saw her in such colors, black was more related to her. For Isabella it wasn’t so common to wear those colors but she felt like adding a change to her wardrobe, it was time since something happened in her mind, motioning her to change. She wasn’t still sure about what was that, she was thinking way too much those days.

“Have you ever longed for death?” She took a sip of her tea and stared at him. She liked staring at him, in spite of how intimidating it was to receive the stares back. With the days she had been discovering that James spoke more with his hands and gestures than with his voice. 

“Well…” He started and felt something inside his throat. It wasn’t an expected question. “I think we all had in a moment, by curiosity, pain… Why do you ask?” Probably all her questions came from the examination of the pieces of the last week, he recommended her some books about him. 

“I find a sinister connection between him and some pieces. I don’t know I just feel it… For example, that night when you played the Nocturne in G minor…” Then she saw how his face changed all of the sudden, his eyes seemed more bright but at the same time got a darker blue tone. James felt how his heart skipped a beat, it was obvious she was researching, but he couldn’t explain why her revelation made his heart jump, it was like his secret was discovered.

“Well, it is a sinister piece.” He cleared his throat and looked through the window. Isabella didn’t understand a thing about what was going on there, but his reaction told her that she was going in the right direction if affirmations inspired such reaction. Somehow she felt like encouraging those reactions coming from him, she could not understand why.

“Yes! But it is darker than that… What did you think when you were playing it?” She could not help it, the question had been bugging her since she saw him play that night and she didn’t dare to ask before, now she felt confident with him to ask about that. James didn’t know if he wanted to talk about it, even, years later, he didn’t find the reason why he should bring it all back to the table. What for? It would just make him feel worthless and open up the Pandora’s box he meant to close long ago.

“I thought about pain, loss… all you mentioned the day after.” That was his brief answer. He didn’t mean to go further and Isabella caught the idea in a second, still, curiosity was doing it’s work and she was eager to ask more, she felt he talked about it as a personal matter, not only as a simple observation that came from listening to it over and over.

“It sounded like you lost something or someone” her words sounded more gloomy but curious at the same time, she wanted to know and understand but probably it was too much. Somehow James blamed himself by giving her the chance to ask, inciting her to make questions about anything, that was the price of talking too much with someone, that was the price for sharing thoughts deliberately. 

“I don’t want to talk about that.”

“But you admit there is more to that than a mere observation.” 

“Isabella, enough.” His eyes were sparkling and Isabella looked down to her cup of tea. He was getting mad and she fas feeling bad. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean… Well, I meant to know but I didn’t mean to upset you.” Then the silence reigned between the two of them as they looked at each other apologetically.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James and Isabella find themselves in a strange situation.

James couldn’t recall when was the last time he shared his thoughts with someone by will. Well, at least most of them. In his mind the interviews with Isabella were more than just an academic exercise, it was like working out for his brain and his soul at the same time, it started scaring him a little bit, normally he would do that only with people really close to him and students were not the target of such attention, clearly. It was odd but he didn’t felt the relationship as a professor-student it was more of musician to musician thing, discussions full of emotional insights on what music meant and sharing the ideals of future pieces. She was the closest to a best friend, except for the fact that they didn’t discussed real personal matters in depth. What he knew was that she had a boyfriend, who seemed very outgoing and social, she lived on her own and lead a simple life full of records, scores and french movies. 

What she knew about him was little… No, now that he thought about it it was a strange relationship, they were not friends but shared something more deep than their lives, that made that relationship the strangest both ever had. And still he felt like he could trust her with ideas he would never share with anyone else and her presence was so inspiring to the point he was daring to improvise again on the piano, it all by her encouragement “A musician that doesn’t explore his emotions through music does not deserve the title.” She said in one of their innumerable conversations. 

On the other hand, Isabella was feeling the things were turning to a different color, the change in her perception about the man she once loathed was interesting. Now he was mysterious, interesting, amazing to hear and have discussions with. The fascination she felt for him had no comparison, it was like talking to a hero and everything he said was written on stone for her. The thought of it was a little scary, she never felt such admiration for someone, at least someone who wasn’t a famous musician already dead like Chopin.

That day they decided to meet in the library to check some scores, silence this time was sacred and they just exchanged some words when they found a book with an exceptional score, quote or information. Isabella walked slowly through the bookshelves as she looked at the titles of the books, occasionally she looked at James, finding him concentrated in a book, sometimes biting the nail of his right thumb or just passing his hands through his chin. Watching him was becoming a hobby, sometimes she found herself turning to look at him, almost unconsciously. Once she noticed the action she lowered her glimpse to the floor and turned back to the shelves, almost disappointed of herself, it was frustrating not to control such simple thing as her own eyes.

James was not totally oblivious to her actions, sometimes he noticed her eyes fixed on him but he didn’t dare to look back all the time. She was acting strange indeed and he could not explain why all that was happening. He tried not to pay attention to that and got absorbed in a reading about Chopin’s feelings, he found an interesting quote he felt like sharing with Isabella, so he started walking towards her with the book in his hand, reading without seeing he was getting closer and almost stepped on her feet. Isabella was standing, reading some notes and didn’t see him approaching, it was only when she felt his feet over hers that she raised up her eyes and face and found him a few inches from her face. Motionless, she stood there, staring at his big blue eyes, blinked a few times and finally moved her feet away from his, still leaving a small distance between their faces. She could feel his fresh smell, a musk cologne with a minty air. 

James just looked at her, he hadn’t had the chance to stare into detail to her eyes, they were silvery blue, almost gray, her eyelashes were long and her natural expression seemed a little bit sad, still, dreamy. She was attractive indeed, a dark beauty that hid behind a complicated character. Finally, the spell was broken when she moved her feet. He looked down to the book, thinking about how stupid he should’ve looked from afar, for a second he felt like a teenager. 

“I’m sorry… look, this is interesting: “ _..But inside something gnaws at me; some presentiment, anxiety, dreams - or sleeplessness - melancholy, indifference - desire for life, and the next instant, desire for death; some kind of sweet peace, some kind of numbness, absent-mindedness…_ ” He said as he kept on looking at the book. Isabella listened to him as she could not stop staring at his face, it overpowered her, she could not take her eyes away from his face. The strange sensation of fascination, added to his scent and the sound of his voice produced in her an unknown feeling, she could not control her usually delicate but always calculated movements. Unwillingly, or maybe willingly, she could not identify the force that drew her to that, she leaned forward, bringing his arms down with hers and kissed his lips as he spoke.

James felt her lips on his’ and didn’t do anything for a second, then part of him reacted, responding the kiss with an eagerness he recalled from years ago, biting her lips as the felt the alluring strawberry flavor of her lipstick. Her mind was blank, she motioned at the will of desire, with a little joy for his intense response. Then, mind made it’s trick and both came back to reality. James broke the kiss as the first thought came: she is a student. Isabella stood there, with a blank look, wondering why she did something so impulsive, so unlike her. She put her left hand on her mouth as guilty thoughts about Jim came to her mind, not even for a single second she thought about him, still it felt so right to do what her heart wished for once in a while.

“I’m sorry I… ” She started, trying to find the words for such a moment. James held her arm and, looked at her for a second and added “I can’t do this Isabella” then he put the book in her hand and walked away, leaving her there in the same silence that preceded the unfathomable instant. 


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of a moment

The instant was like a movie in his mind, running in an eternal loop. James was sitting on the piano of the practice room, playing notes mindlessly, aimlessly. The most memorable things from it were the taste of the kiss and that blackout from his reasoning, the sweetness of her and the beautiful fact that she did something so impulsive she could not explain herself. It was enchanting and at the same time, fearful.

His hands moved all along it looking for a song, it was coming out easy but painfully, he didn’t know how to restrain those feelings and ideas that were overwhelming him, certainly he enjoyed the moment but the idea of her being a student held him back from any idea that would come up, him. James McAvoy having a problem with stupid morals, she was 24, a perfect adult and still he was insecure about daring to do something like she did, what made it even stranger was that normally he would develop a casual relationship with any attractive woman for a while, no strings attached. Why was she different? She was beautiful, yes, she was smart as well. She had all the qualities the rest of his favorite women had, still there was an extra thing, probably was her character, she was not easy and instead of feeling driven away because of that she drew him into that spiral of discussions that he adored. The way she frowned when she thought about something, when she elaborates an idea, the way she looked to the sky when she was imagining something… Mate, he had to do something about that. 

The girl had a boyfriend, he was nice and all… He wasn’t the problem for James. The problem was Isabella herself. To behold such woman would mean the rendition to an oath he made when his beloved died: never to go madly in love ever again.

***

She could not sleep. Her nights were full of dreams and nightmares and the remorse with Jim. Dear lord, Jim. She tried to make it up to him by spending all the time she could around him, she went to rehearsals, went to the bar, drank whisky in quantities she never would… And over all she stopped seeing James. After the library issue she decided to stay away from him mainly for pride, also with a little bit of shame. How could she explain herself to him? She couldn’t she didn’t know what was going on inside her mind and her soul, the mixture of feelings, theories and thoughts just drove her crazy and lead her to desperation. 

Jim noticed her change, mainly the sudden stop in her meetings with professor McAvoy. He didn’t dare to ask, knowing her, all he would get for an answer was silence and also he knew how she got when someone dared to question one of her ideas, silence would follow, probably by weeks. He didn’t mind at all her stopping seeing him but he noticed a little air of concern and even sadness. The woman was a puzzle, he wished he could decipher her but he couldn’t, all he could do was love her and give into her caprices, pleasing her was the way to get to her, in his mind. How wrong he was.

That day Isabella found herself alone listening to Jim’s music in the linving room of his apartment. She discovered a great artist named Amanda Palmer and got stuck on a song that depicted perfectly her ideas about James, it was Astronaut. 

She felt awful by feeling incapable to be honest with Jim and tell him she was developing feeling (her? Feelings?) for James McAvoy and that she was incapable of breaking up with him because she felt attached and committed to him. No, she couldn’t, even when she didn’t get the butterflies in her stomach, she didn’t spend all the time fantasizing about being with him or even dared to start writing a piece for James when Jim’s was unfinished and totally aborted. How could she? How could she do such a thing with a sweet guy who spent all his time pampering her, soothing her, someone who looked after her in a way nobody else did. James got out the worst part of her and still she loved it because she discovered so much about herself in the process and she could not deny he made her someone better and someone worse too. Her true nature was revealing and she didn’t know if it was was good to leave the safety of Jim’s arms. No, it wasn’t an option because James was so free that beholding him was simply impossible.

She wanted to have the best of both worlds and cowardly she settled for doing nothing about the matter and keep them both somehow as she found out a way to fix up the mess she was in. She decided to start by looking for James and apologize. She thought about going to the professor’s rom in the faculty, tension would dissipate if they were surrounded by people, or at least would make him at least talk to her and se could request a private conversation later and then let it all out. She even thought about a letter, she already wrote it all down and kept it with her all the time. As for Jim, he remained oblivious to the fact that she liked James but noticed she was acting strange, with her mysterious ways he could not say what was common and what wasn’t but there was something new in her, darker maybe. 

She got to the room finding it was empty, she walked slowly to his table and placed the letter over the pile of papers. His full name written with her beautiful script letter made it look beautiful between then score books and biographies he had all over it. She turned and walked away before she could start regretting writing it and leaving it there.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The letter and a revelation.

_James,_

__

_I gave this a lot of thought and it seemed like the most appropriate of ways to apologize for my impulsive behaviour. But, no matter how much I try to restrain my feelings and impulses I can’t deny that what I did was totally willingly, I just lost all sense of decorum. I find myself writing this letter to you as the most organized and rational way to explain to you what I can’t say with spoken words, maybe because your presence transfixes me in such a way that I might end up doing the same as I did on the library, again._

__

_By no means I’m trying to harass you and it is not my intention to get annoying but by writing this letter I’m making an exorcism of my demons, in order to keep on living calmly and without stress as I’ve been doing through these days. Probably you don’t want to hear from he again, I can totally understand the reasons why you wouldn’t like or mind being with a person like me, especially by being your student. I’m sorry by putting you through such a situation. It is my wish to let you know that all the conversations and time we’ve spent together have encouraged these feelings I have for you. And me, being a quite inexperienced woman in the matter can only appeal to her common sense on saying that it all is really meaningful for me, every word and every discussion. Maybe this is unrequited but the attraction I feel for you has no comparison, I’ve never been transfixed, transformed and drawn into someone in such a way. The novelty of all of this is simply overwhelming. The excruciating anxiety I feel right now, after a week of not seeing you or talking to you is simply indescribable._

__

_I needed to let that out of my chest. I do feel guilty by betraying many of my principles by doing things in an impulsive way but was we discussed once, maybe doing wrong has it’s right sometimes and I was just being true to my heart. It is not an excuse but I wanted to clarify that. And in spite of all of that, I don’t want to break up the relationship I have with you, the one we have as professor and student. It will be a test for me to fight and get to know all these feelings I’m dealing with but losing the helpful hand of a friend as you would hurt my heart more than anything in the world._

__

_With this being said, I hope you forgive me for such shameless behaviour. I promise to show more decorum and control all of this for the means of our academic work and the finalization of it. In the meantime, I owe you a spoken apology and I leave you with the promise that you won’t hear of this again and that I will be the same old Isabella you once knew having a discussion about Chopin, that april afternoon in the library._

__

_Isabella_

 

 

Isabella’s letter surprised James in every single way. The way she wrote it and how clear she was for the first time about feelings, normally she was all tangled up in rational explanations, this time it all came from the soul, it was her soul addressing his’ and it was her speaking frankly to him. How her words moved him produced a little bit of fear inside his soul, not because he didn’t corresponded all of that, it was because he did requited all those feelings with the same intensity but with more complexity and because he promised himself he wouldn’t feel that much deal of stuff again, for the sake of his mind and his heart. And there he was, falling in love with a woman who dared to show him the true colors of her soul without any restriction, in spite of the obstacles of her reason and her mind. Still, it was her who attracted him, her by being her, who she was from day one to that instant in the library. 

 

The last paragraph of her letter made him a little sad, she was meaning to give up on all of that given the thought her feelings might be unrequited. How on earth? Wasn’t he that meaningful when he kissed her back? Wasn’t that clear enough? It pissed him off a bit but also, due to the day he interrupted the heavenly instant it was to expect she would think he didn’t want to get into deep with the matter. What can he say to that? All the reservations were about the fact she was a student, the stupid fact, she wasn’t a 16 year old, she was grown up and they were in college, it wouldn’t be so hard… It would be for him. Deep inside he knew that it was just an excuse not to get into the deep and confusing lands of love and romance he was years ago, just to end in pain and solitude. Part of him loved that solitary life with casual encounters and the zero compromise policy he created, now she was there, turning tables and playing with his cards. It was the first unpredictable person, in many years to touch his life and affect it.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> umm.. just read...

He decided to call Isabella and leave a message so she can pop up at his apartment. Risky move but it was all he could come up with. He didn’t want any public display of discussion or affection or whatever may happen between them, he just wanted to talk it over. 

 

For Isabella it was a surprise to receive his message and hear him so calmed, blank and without emotion. She was puzzled. He was proposing her to go to his apartment, early in the afternoon to talk things over. At least he wasn’t saying a rotund NO. Typically she would know what to wear but that day she didn’t know what to do, so she went for something pretty Isabella, all dark but still intriguing, black jeans with a black and red corset, Jim’s favorite, and a black leather jacket. Curiously he lived just three blocks away from her on a student’s building. As she went upstair she tried to repeat her words as a mantra “I didn’t mean to, I just want to remain friends.” It all was like a prayer, a prayer she didn’t dare to believe deep in her heart but she was willing to sacrifice just to have him near.

 

Isabella rang the bell, fixed her loose auburn hair and waited. He opened the door swiftly and gave her a quick look. How could he resist? How did he even manage to do it? She was looking stunning and the corset just gave it a more dangerous look. Fiercer than ever. She smiled and muttered a “hello” as he invited her to come in. Chopin was playing on his stereo, oddly enough it was the shuffle of the iPod and not deliberate. 

 

“I was preparing tea… do you want some?” He asked, trying to sound easy, calmed. She nodded as she walked towards the couch and left her bag on it. She stood up looking at him taking the kettle and serving the teas. She approached the little bar that separated the kitchen from the living room and sat at one of the chairs.

 

“I’m so so sorry…” She stared. She couldn’t keep it inside. She was sorry indeed, by putting him through all that. James looked at her, her eyes were looking down at the wooden bar, he left the kettle on the stove and walked towards her with the two cups of coffee. 

 

“You don’t have to apologize Isabella…” He muttered as she finally dared to look up to him. He gave her a comforting smile, a friendly one. She sighed and took her cup. She turned to face to couch and walked towards the window. James, instinctively followed her, leaving his cup on the table, forgetting it. The tense moment was filled with La Banquet Infernal by Chopin, the scherzo James saw her play one day in the practice room. All he could notice was the bare skin of her neck and how inviting it was to bite. He shook off the thoughts from his mind and stood two meters away from her. She turned and looked at him. ‘Talk it over’ James thought. They needed to talk it over but all he could think was how beautiful she looked that day and how her letter made him feel.

 

“I read your letter…” He started.

 

“And?” She asked, quickly, almost like begging for an answer. All kinds of thoughts passed through her mind, he might say he didn’t care about it, he might say he should be professional and stay away from her, he might say she had a boyfriend and it was really irresponsible to do such thing… He might say so many things. In her anxiousness she was unable to hold her cup and barely managed to leave it by the opened window. Ready to cool down.

 

“I don’t want you to restrain from this.” He said as he gave one step forward and saw her face full of confusion. Clearly it wasn’t in the many possibilities she contemplated in her mind. What to do with the unpredictable? 

 

“But…”

 

“We need to talk this over.” He finally dared to walk towards her and let it all happen. They would talk over but later. Come what may. He didn’t cared about the consequences. It was there, in that moment. He needed to do so. He finally held her face with both hands and looked at her for an instant before starting to kiss her eagerly. This time the impulsive one was him, and all of the sudden the speech she had on her mind was forgotten.

 

She let herself go and wrapped her arms around him as he lifted her up and she put her legs around his waist. The kiss wasn’t interrupted, she ran her hands around his air as he walked clumsily towards the closest wall just to press her against it, stop kissing her for a few seconds as he stared at her wildly with his bright blue eyes, panting. Then his mouth went down to her neck, kissing, biting and licking as Isabella breathed with difficulty and closed her eyes in ecstasy. It was happening and the atmosphere of it all was so alluring that she was acting completely mindless, she was a pray of instinct and desire. She brought her legs down, still feeling his whole body pressed against her, lowered her head, looking for his lips and went back to the savage kiss they had a while ago, god she wish she could bite him as hard as she could because she couldn’t restrain herself from wishing that so much.

 

Somehow he managed to guide her to the bed, few steps away from the wall. Swiftly she started unbuttoning his shirt as he tried to untie the shoe laces of his shoes. Isabella was out of her mind, she had never known such frenzy, it all was so fast, beautiful and full of lust, she gave him a mischievous look as she bit her lip, it was real, she was getting what she wanted and the idea that her insatiable feeling might be satisfied drove her even more mad. Staring at him wasn’t such a bad idea, James got even more turned on when she became that perverse kind of being, in any situation of life, now it was time to return the attention and get a little perverse himself. He threw her over the bed, kissed her lips softly, almost teasingly as she sighed of pleasure. Once over her he stared at her for a second and started to untie the corset she had that day. Unpractical idea, but she didn’t count with the change of course things would have, so she could’ve worn something more comfortable. For James the corset was only another exciting garment but he had to add “You, always making things complicated” in between kisses; Isabella just smirked, her hair now totally disheveled, her hands busy looking for the buckle of the belt of hi pants “If it is not complicated it is not me.” 

 

James stared at her in marvel, her white pale skin made the perfect contrast with her dark hair, she looked almost like one of those dark muses he dreamt about when he listened to the opera. She let her boots fall as he stared at her naked breasts, speechless. Finally she sat up and planted a sweet kiss on his lips, bringing him back from the daydreaming, with him back the frenzy and desire awoke with more strength. In a matter of seconds, between arms, hands, kisses and moans James was lying over her, fully naked, feeling her bare warmth against his body. That was finally happening, Isabella thought as she passed her hands through his hair to end up touching his face, feeling the sexy incipient beard. His scent. Everything part of that moment was an element of the frenzy she experimented, hearing him breathe heavily, she unconscious of the slow moans she was making as he passed his hands through her breasts, sometimes softly sometimes massaging them with intensity. 

 

She felt his erection, hard and warm against her pubis and lowered down her hand to touch him, somehow her touch drove him mad, she didn’t mind, in spite of his moan and pleasured in, this was different from all encounters she had. She played with her hand on his shaft for a little while. Isabella’s steel eyes found his’ for the brief second it took him to enter her, slowly. No time for foreplay, the desire was too big and the lust was so consuming the could barely think. God, all the things both felt were unimaginable, for James she was so warm, tight and fragile, for Isabella he was so strong yet vulnerable. James started moving his hips faster as her hands ran all around his body, grasping, touching, tickling. Seeing him sweat like that just turned her on even more, she was used to see the professional, academic James, and this whole new phase, full of lust, power and desire drew her even closer to him. With every movement he made she felt it all even more. It was hard for James to resist the desire of releasing instantly, her moans and the way she whispered his name on his ear were not helping. It sounds terribly egotistic but god, how good his name sounded coming out of her lips. She never helped him on anything, all related to her was uncertain and because of that, exciting. Sex never made much sense before and now meant it all because was all they could to to ease the turmoil of feelings both had. 

 

“I want to drive you crazy” He said as he fastened up his movements unable to hold himself for much longer, Isabella couldn’t almost hear his words because she moaned so hard of pleasure she almost passed out, instants later James was whimpering himself, after coming inside her like he never had before with anyone. He let himself fall into the bed, laying next to her, incapable of letting her out of his sight, she was there with her eyes closed and a smirk on her face, after a moment she opened them and looked at him, she wasn’t a person who talked much, she crawled over him and let her head fall on his chest. She let out a sigh as he played with her hair. 

 

“I thought you wanted to talk it over.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After effects of the impulses.

Isabella didn’t have much time to feel remorse until, after one of the many intense sessions of making out and having frantic sex that afternoon, James decided to finally talk things over. She had been honest, it was his turn. Sadly it was time for her to leave, it was late in the evening and she was surprised that Jim didn’t call, then she remembered he would be playing with his band at the usual pub. As she got dressed, both talked about the recent events.

“I don’t want you to hold back anything. I want you to be honest and tell me what we’re gonna do about this… if there is something to do about.” He was trying to make his point, he wanted, decided to finally be with her, no matter the consequences, but it had to be silent for a while, at least until she finished her thesis or she decided not to mention him on her paper in order to avoid any speculations. He was also thoughtful about the fact she was with Jim, he wasn’t jealous but certainly didn’t like the idea of being a lover, he didn’t know what to expect and anything could be going on inside her mind. This time her unpredictability wasn’t as fun.

She didn’t know yet. Leaving Jim all of the sudden didn’t seem like a good idea but the whole novelty of James, her feelings and all that was attached to that attraction seemed stronger than her. As she put her coat on she turned to face James, he had his eyes fixed on her and she felt a little bit embarrassed and blushed for the first time, even after all that just happened. Clearly it wasn’t going to happen just once, it wasn’t temporary, the situation was bigger and out of reach for both.

“I want this… I want… you… I will figure out something…” She answered quickly, as her mind tried to workout a plan, she needed to have one, for everything. Nothing ever seemed to tangled up and complicated in her life right now, and still, everything felt so right when she looked at James. “What do you want?” She asked full of curiosity as she tied her coat and James put his pants on, leaving his chest naked. He gave her a funny look and walked up to her. She adored the way he didn’t look distant anymore, it was like unveiling a mischievous and greedy child that hid behind the seriousness and professionalism of a professor. Still, she liked them both and the fact that they were embodied in him made it even better.

“I thought you knew.” His face few inches away from hers now, she looked down, hesitant. He kissed her greedily, biting her swollen lips. James felt still a little frantic about the whole situation, it was beautiful and dark at the same time. She seemed even more beautiful to his eyes and yet it all felt so dangerous and emotionally risky that he felt a sudden rush of fear. He tried to discard it by holding her close to his body. They broke the kiss and remained there forehead to forehead staring at each other’s eyes in the dim light of the room. He wished he could hold her there forever, the only idea of getting her out of sight was a little sinister. 

“I really have to go…”

“Will I see you tomorrow?” He asked passing his hand through her hair. 

“Only if you want to…” She said playfully as she turned and walked away from him, towards the door. He followed her to the doorstep. She went out, kissed him briefly as she muttered a “good night”. He looked at her walking downstairs. Such complex woman never seemed so right in spite of the wrong of all circumstances. James wanted her, but also was incredibly scared of the course things might take, it was risky emotionally and he didn’t know how far he was able to go yet, still, it was surprising how he finally dared to go further. He closed the door and let himself fall on the unmade bed again. Her scent was all over the place.

Isabella walked out and let out a long sigh, the longest in her life. It was around 11 and the street was cold and empty. She felt like walking, not that she wanted to return to her place as soon as she could, if she could only avoid the crash with reality and stay like that forever, in that infinite kiss with him or that instant in the street, careless, smoking a cigarette. It was time to think and figure out something, what was going on there with James, what was going on with Jim and mainly what was going on with herself and all that confusion. For the first time, life didn’t look simple at all.


	17. Chapter 17

Isabella woke up to the sound of her cell phone. In the dark she looked for it somewhere over the table next to her bed, she looked at the number, it was Jim. She didn’t know what time it was, she just knew she fell dead tired on her bed once she got home.

“Hey…” She muttered as she passed her hands through her eyes, seeing the little brightness coming through the curtains of her bedroom. It was early morning, probably 7 am.

“Bird, why you didn’t stay here last night?” He asked. She could notice a little drunk accent on his voice, still, deep inside it she saw this coming, he would ask why and she would come up with any stupid excuse because she would never, EVER, tell him the truth on her whereabouts last night. 

“I left the library so late in the evening that coming here was a better idea.” It came out quick and painless. It was amazing how she couldn’t feel remorse at that moment, maybe because she wasn’t seeing him. Jim and his puppy dog green eyes had such a cute effect you could not get mad at him, even if you wanted to. “How was the gig? You just got there right?” She asked, she knew he would call once he got home, if that was the case he could’ve called earlier but he didn’t. Maybe it was that, he was away in his business, so entertained that it all felt like vacations from each other. The relationship wasn’t boring but certainly never had an EXCITING moment, except by the start. Jim loved her, he could see through her eyes but inside he knew that she wasn’t someone he could behold because Isabella was too complicated to belong to someone and also incapable of getting attached to someone. 

“It was alright. We played, got pissed and went to Billy’s flat… Wish you could’ve been there.” Oh please don’t say that, Isabella thought. Now remorse was hitting her hard, how could she escape that? She loved Jim, not the way a lover does, she just loved him because he was tender, cute and nice with her. How could she leave someone she loved? Why couldn’t she have who she wanted and who she loved, all in one and without the attachment of relationships and complications? Oh, it was because it is her you’re talking about and she would do anything to keep both as long as she could. 

In her mind, James didn’t seem like someone safe, they fought, discussed and he got the worst of her. But also the best, he was incredibly seductive and she could not resist even to the thought of seeing him again because her heart would start racing. As for Jim, he was the safest person, she could rely on him, on his presence, he was always so reassuring, so supportive… She never heard any objection coming from him, and probably that was his turn-off he didn’t seem to have a voice of his own when he was with her, because she was so powerful over him that all he could do was serve her as a goddess. That wasn’t good either.

“Jim, I think I’m spending too much time with you…” She said quickly. It was unbelievable how her mind made it, words were just words but how powerful they were. “I need space for myself too.” She added finally, he was in silence.

“I don’t want you to feel like I’m harassing you.” He added. He saw it coming, she was so weird that it was strange that she didn’t do anything strange before, but still there was something else, but in his mind ‘what you don’t know can’t hurt you’ was the premise and he preferred to leave it like that.

“I don’t mean to sound harsh… can we slow down a bit?” She couldn’t tell him something else. ‘I’m tired, I’m not sure of what I want in life and this is driving me crazy.’ Was what she meant to say but she couldn’t. It wasn’t unlike her to be confused, he would discover it all. Oh she felt so guilty now. All the joy and excitement of the afternoon turned into grief and worry.

“Alright.” Short. Jim without words, he even sounded gloomy, he was making it harder. They decided not to meet that day but the next, then Isabella remembered her promise to James. How could she do one thing with one and not the same with the other? Why it all was so complicated? She stayed in bed, thinking, sobbing sometimes, trying to figure it all out… Suddenly the sound of her cell phone brought her back. James.

“Hello?”

“Morning. How are you?”

“Sleepy?”

“You still want to meet?” It was weird to talk so naturally to him. His voice made her feel happy and filled with emotion, memories of last night came to her mind. There was no doubt she wanted to see him again. “Of course. Come to my place, I will show you the Bach collection I told you about.” Her mind planned it all. He agreed and she woke up to get ready. It shouldn’t be weird to have him at her place, not even Jim made it there that fast. It was like letting someone enter her world and this time she was so willing to open the door.


	18. Chapter 18

And as she opened the door for James the door for Jim was closing almost automatically. Isabella was in that state of relationships where she could not handle the fact that she felt terribly guilty for cheating on him but also was finding really hard to bear him and his little details: the rock and roll full volume when she went to his place, his tender touch when they were making love and his questions. 

And it was so visible for Jim. Isabella wasn’t the same, he didn’t think such day would come so fast when she would get tired of him or probably she was growing out of her love, if there was ever one, for him. Behind the secure facade of a rock musician Jim was a really sensible guy, he dared to show that side to Isabella and now was getting paid for it, being hurt in his face without daring to speak a word because certainly it hurt good sometimes. 

Her coldness was astounding, the way she got cranky about simple things such as playing Queens of the Stone Age out loud as he took a shower, the way she hugged him looking for comfort after a little fight. 

No he could never fight with her. It was so hard. And yes, she was getting so distant that she barely visited him if it wasn’t for the fact that they met at the Conservatory and took a stroll together to his place. Sometimes he requested to stop by her house but she always refused, her temple was closed again and he saw how started to become a distant figure that one was in his hands. That hurt bad.

On James’ side everything was going fast, he was so infatuated with her that was almost impossible to let go when they met. He could never keep away his hands from her, touching her hair, her face. How he craved for the sound of her voice at night sometimes… It was all so juvenile that it amazed him. He never experienced such teenage frenzy and lust. He was totally possessed by hormones and it was so scary at the same time that he was even considering about consulting about it. For Isabella such level of attention was new, it was different from Jim because James was a little violent in his affections, probably that’s what drew her even more to him, like this uncontrollable savage impulse of being next to each other.

“I could see your eyes every day and every time I find a new shade in them” He used to say, his eyes fixed on hers in a never ending staring contest. But at the same time Isabella felt the fear of sharing more than she had with someone, the whole novelty of speaking up her thoughts and feelings was scary. Deep inside, when she looked into his eyes she felt like they were scrutinizing her soul, wishing to eat it piece by piece. It wasn’t far from truth, the curiosity James felt for her was unspeakable, so many layers to be discovered. Speaking with her was exhausting and fascinating, every day he found new things about her character how she laughed nervously when he gave her a compliment, how her eyes shone when she talked about astronomy and how cold she turned when it was time to talk about her past and the feelings. 

In first place, he had a question, the basic one that he was so scared to ask: Why you decide to repress all feelings? It was like a lock and a dragon keeping it. There had to be something about her past or her present that had to deal with that. James was really curious and found his way through words to find out, still, without success, but he kept on trying. He was risking so much by obsessing with this woman that he deserved to know the whole secret, he would die trying.


	19. Chapter 19

Isabella’s secret was the simplest one: she had never felt love for anybody but herself and probably, her parents. The fact that she had such apathy for emotions was frustrating for anyone who met her. Passion was a different thing, it was something uncontrollable: more of a basic instinct than an emotion itself and James was discovering that. In his mind the idea of her being a strange being driven by passions more than emotions was growing and it scared him a little bit to see how she transformed when they were together. Inside she didn’t know what was going on; without having a trace of knowledge on what love was, how could she say if what she felt for James was love or a pure physical infatuation?

 

That afternoon they were laying in the couch, James playing with Isabella’s hair as she had her eyes closed concentrated on the music playing in the back, Yann Tiersen’s Amelie soundtrack. She tried not to give it much thought, she hated to face sensibilities, she hadn’t been able to break up properly with Jim and she could not describe and didn’t dare to go further in her investigations on what she really felt for James. She wanted to float and stay in a bubble stuck in time, but it was just a matter of circumstances to make it all explode at once.

 

“I don’t know what to do with you.” James said as he passed his hands through her hair, smoothly.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Part of me wants you so bad and part of me tells me to stay away.” He finally dared to say, not with a hesitant tone on his voice. Isabella opened her eyes, she never considered the fact that he would get tired of the situation, she didn’t even considered his doubts, it was like a check mate menace,.

 

“Why stay away?” She was nervous, the only thought of losing him made her feel a void inside  her chest. 

 

“Fear… God… Isabella… How can I ask this without sounding so demanding…” His tone was desperate. She sat on the couch and moved so she was siting in lotus position in front of him. 

 

“Ask, anything.”

 

“What’s this game we’re playing? Why do I feel like doing something illicit when I’m with you?” She could not answer that, certainly she felt the same as him, there was a component of adventure in their relationship, but it was the stressful point, like nothing had been said and silence was so tacit that without it none of them could coexist. Silence was as vital in their relationship as sex. No they didn’t talk about their daily stuff, they just talked about ideas, not circadian events. 

 

“Maybe because we’re not normal… James are you happy?” How could she ask that? How could she not notice? James was letting it all out and when it happened things came out dirty and a little harsh, he was getting upset, not with her, but with the situation, how long could he hold it all back and hide in the shadows? Why wasn’t she doing something to finish her thesis, break up with Jim and finally put and end to the circle of deceive they created… 

 

“Why you ask me that?”

 

“Because if you have so many questions you might be hesitant about this.” When she finished saying that she regretted it immediately, it wasn’t what she meant, she knew both had clear that what they had was a meaningful situation, so why did she dare to make such an affirmation? His eyes were sparkling with anger and frustration.

 

“I’m not hesitating. God… Why you have to theorize so much about this, there is a simple fact and it is that I bloody love you Isabella.” Boom! He dropped the bomb, he didn’t mean to let it out in such way and she didn’t expect to hear the words so soon. Knowing how to deal with emotions was the hardest thing for Isabella; she didn’t know how to express them quite well and her brain tried to theorize all that came sheerly from her heart. Why was it so hard for her to tell him that she thought she loved him but she couldn’t because translating such thing was impossible and saying the words has demonstrated being a hazard and a total disaster. 

 

James didn’t expect any answer, it was like he had seen the train coming and threw himself to the the rails, willingly to die. For the first time she made him feel angry and frustrated, she would never dare to be a sensible woman or at least until she went through something really tough and now hesitation was real. Why did he drop such bomb so soon? He didn’t know but it was enough of a test for him to understand she was even more complicated than he really wished or liked.

 

“I… James you give me this sweet peace but I…” Was all she managed to say as she touched his cheek and sat up to hug him. The simple ‘I love you’ would not come out, but an urge to be close to him attacked her, he was frozen, staring at her, now with a little sadness. He didn’t expect this, he didn’t think he deserved it but he understood that it was a risk to be taken and sadly it didn’t turn out. Another heartbreak, another deception and the final test to show him that love was nothing else but a bad story told in  marvelous way by winners and not by the ones who suffered betrayal or loss.


	20. Chaptr 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It didn't end in 19! I was crazy, there are 4 more chapters. Sorry for the delay of YEARS.

The conversation of the previous days created tension between Isabella and James, whether they wanted to admit it or not. She barely concentrated on her thesis, watching his actions and reactions and he was just closing the door because the results of that argument were so frustrating that all he did was wonder what could possibly go on inside her mind. 

In reality, she was just confused and scared. She was still hesitant about leaving the security of Jim’s safe but dull affection, it was more predictable and controllable than the explosive and fascinating emotions James woke up on her. Something, maybe a cliché, told her that it was safer to go for the thing she knew most and it was Jim, she could read him like a score, but also the mere thought of losing James made her feel hopeless. And James was reaching the limit, he was getting crankier than ever, so much to the point she preferred to lock herself up as she used to do in the old days, looking for some peace from him, but the peace of mind was nowhere to be found. Sometimes she felt like running away. The novelty of James was never over, she still felt fascinated by him, just as he was with her but her mind couldn’t stop her from thinking it could be temporary, just as any vice in life. How wrong she was.

Secretly James had been considering an option that started looking more appealing, a sacrifice, but also the perfect escape from something that seemed like a mortal trap. His period at the Conservatoire was almost over and Isabella knew that, but he was pretending to leave as soon as possible, without extending his visit. It had no point at all to stay for someone who was driving him insane and who didn’t seem to mind or have profound feelings about him. So it was, that he planned his trip for two weeks from that day, he would leave and she would know nothing, it was a lesson, one that he didn’t want to teach her but he had to for the sake of his mind and his heart. Then there was her thesis, almost finished, a work that had so much of both on it that felt like a baby and would keep a space in his heart forever. Why was he so dramatic about it? Maybe because he liked to cut things sharply, not open endings.

Life was in Scotland, so was reality and he had to cut Isabella off his life if he wanted to keep on going. She was too distracting, he wasn’t composing as he wanted to, and better offers awaited, he started wondering when did he changed music for a woman, it was unconsciously done, Chopin wouldn’t have done such a thing. But neither he was Chopin and the times were different. He felt like telling her, giving her an ultimatum, but it would turn things worse. So he made his purpose to help her finishing her thesis before two weeks so he could leave in peace, at least, with his academic self.

Inside, Isabella felt something wasn’t right but she also blamed the stressful period she was going through: finishing her thesis, dealing with two relationships at the same time and carrying on the weight of fear and doubt. She had been trying to break up with Jim but it all felt so wrong that she couldn’t do it and might end up staying at his place just to feel comfort when she felt James was too far away from her reach. Lately he had been distant, the conversation left a big breach between both of them and she felt guilty for it, resolving her feeling was something she wasn’t daring to do: it was too new for her to understand how to figure out such things and the fear paralyzed her.

Facing facts was hard for Isabella, being the kind of stubborn girl she was, she would never admit that she was in doubt and didn’t have something clear in her mind, or in this case, her heart. 


	21. Chapter 21

The dreary day came: Isabella’s concert, two days before James would leave back to Scotland, in silence and in pain. Her thesis was over and in spite of feeling joyful of getting such realization in life, she felt some kind of sadness and grief she could not explain. Standing outside the theater, wearing all black and covering her neck with a black scarf, a gift from Jim, she smoked a cigarette trying to ease her heart.

James had been distant all the previous days, not to count that they barely had sex those days and they just limited to work on the pieces of her concert, for her, James was going back to be the professor she kind of loathed than the lover she once adored, and still she felt so much for him that if she saw him in that instant she would just push him against a wall and started kissing him endlessly. But he wasn’t there, instead, Jim showed up with his usual sweetness and worry.

“Are you stressed bird?” He touched her face as she looked at him with tears about to come out of her eyes. How could she be doing such things? It all was so unlike her: cheating on her boyfriend, being impulsive, cold and bitchy. Maybe that was her really and she didn’t realize before.

“I’m just nervous.” She sobbed as she cleaned her face with her sleeve and tried to smile. Jim hug her as she hid on his shoulder. In the distance, James looked at both. How could he be part of that? She wasn’t able or willing to let go of Jim and he seemed as much in love has he was with her as well. It felt so wrong to be with her for the first time. He turned and went inside the theater, it was better to wait inside and see her perform, something he always loved to do.

Isabella went inside the theater, expecting to see James around. She found everyone else: teachers, colleagues, critics… except him. His distance seemed so strange to her, but still, understandable: she still had no words to reply to him and Jim was around, it would be the strangest thing. She guessed she would meet him in the backstage before playing. With a quick kiss she left Jim on his seat and proceeded to the backstage to wait for the sign to start the presentation. James was sitting on the other side of the stage, with some papers in his hand, thinking and apparently away from everything. He lifted up his head and saw Isabella on the other side, waving at him. He gave her a little smile and blew a kiss for her, he could not help himself when she was around sometimes.

Isabella’s tutor was giving the introduction and called her to the stage. Nervous and a little stiff she walked to see the lights and the people. Without minding anything, not even her own thoughts she sat on the piano and kept silence for almost 15 seconds. Then, she moved her fingers in the air, placed them slowly on the keys, letting out a log sigh and started playing. 

She was so into it, James thought, it was wonderful to see her play because she transformed and it was like she gave herself away to the music, like nothing else in life. No she didn’t give herself completely to him and he was so jealous sometimes of her passion. Without noticing he was already clenching his fists, why couldn’t she love him? And if she did what was stopping her from showing it? He liked her complicated but this was far too much. 

Then he spotted Jim, he was absorbed, staring at her with as much fascination as James himself. Could that poor man resist the heartbreak of discovering that she had been unfaithful? He didn’t know, all he knew is that the secret wouldn’t be revealed by him and that Isabella had to run with the consequences. And truth hit him hard: he was able to let go of her, with as much pain as if she was dying and he was willing to because loving her hurt more than anything else in life. For Jim the situation was different, even when she seemed distant he was so sure of her, of her uncertainty that controlling her seemed like the least option, the one that would make him lose her forever.


	22. Chapter 22

As she played, Isabella drifted in her thoughts of everything but mainly on what she played and what it meant to her. And it all was related to her current situation and she came to conclusions as she moved her fingers around the keys and closed her eyes just not to make evident that she was deeply touched by the revelations she was having.

First of all, it all was so unlike her: cheating, mainly. Follwing her impulses was a risk and now she was finding she was paying for it somehow: she lost control of her life and now was in between two worlds: the Isabella that she used to be and would settle with Jim and the one she became thanks and in company of James, the one who seized the day and didn’t think about tomorrow. And both of them felt so like her but at the same time so unlike her. What if she took away both factors out of the equation? James and Jim, out of her life, could she bear a life without them? Of course she could, she did it before, why couldn’t she do it now?

She got used to them, both. The tender manners of Jim and James’ moody and intense ways. She could not pick and running away from it all seemed like the best option but also the most coward one. She could tell the truth in everyone’s face, so why couldn’t she face it herself? It was destroying her and both of them as well and she could not let that happen. So, without hesitation she made a resolution, a silent one: She would step out of their ways, slowly and almost painlessly.

She finished her piece, everyone was standing, applauding her. She stood up, smiled mechanically and vowed. She walked slowly to the backstage where once was James, finding it empty. Then she proceeded to the changing room and found a note on her desk. Before she could read it, Jim came through the door and hugged her filled with emotion.

“You were impeccable Isabella!” All she could manage to do was smile. He looked so proud and she felt so bad, she was playing with him and still she loved him, how could she do that to him? And James? Where was he? Why she didn’t seem to find complete happiness? Tears started to roll down her face as she hugged Jim.

“I’m done Jim.” She said as a statement to herself. He considered it as the final words for the long hours she spent working on her piece. He was so naive that it made her feel even worse. After standing in a long hug, Jim left her alone to bring some water. He really didn’t get her. Isabella looked at her reflection and remembered the letter, she took it out and found James’ handwriting on it. Where was he? She opened the envelope and started reading.

Dear Isabella

First of all, allow me to apologize by not being there with you once the whole concert is done but good byes are not my thing and this is more than I could take. 

I’m returning to Scotland, it is about time to face reality again and go back to the life I left. I’m writing you these words to express my deep and unconditional love for you, love that in spite of not being returned in the same way will remain intact forever and I will cherish as a beautiful memory. You with your shifting moods and crazy ways showed me that life is worth living and that I’m capable of feeling passion and love again.

Forgive me by leaving in the most coward of ways, without saying good bye properly and without further explanations. You need to fix your life and keep on going with it, I have no doubt of your incredible talent, you’re an exceptional woman in countless ways. I will miss you more than words can tell. 

I love you.

James

P.S: Curious how something that started with a letter ends up in the same way. 

So it was. The unexpected materialized in front of her and decisions were made without her consent. Not that he needed it but she always thought herself in control of things and now he was doing what she was incapable of: leaving. And he was leaving her, without any choice or option.

Isabella could not describe the deep and terrible void she felt while reading his words, it was like a castle brought down by a terrible attack, turned into ruins within seconds. The tears were rolling down her face but she was silent. Jim went back and found her holding the letter. She folded it and looked at him. She had to keep herself in place. She smiled back at him, swallowing the bitter taste of the previous moments. She would not cry, she would not let herself crumble down in pieces.


	23. Chapter 23: Epilogue

**Before and after**

Leaving the note heartlessly in her desk was the most valiant and painful solution James could find. He walked out of the theater through the back door, without looking back. He had fixed his bags and left them in an hotel nearby. It was better to cut things that way. 

That night he could barely sleep. He turned in his bed, thinking about Isabella, her laughter, the way she frowned when she didn’t agree with something and the sound of her voice. He even felt like playing his piano, singing a song for her but nothing was at reach: not a piano, not her. The next day he went to the train station at an early hour. He could’ve taken a plane but trains were his favorite thing and the trip would allow him to think on what to do when he got back to life back in Edinburg.

As he looked through the window he realized he didn’t have much plans with Isabella. It was like both knew that it was going to end sooner or later and they didn’t even bother on asking about each other’s lives and still he felt like he knew her from before and could easily predict her mood swings and sometimes her actions.

What would he do back home? Teach again, go back to the days of casual relationships with women he met around in parties of friends, back to the solitary afternoons of old movies in his living room and the tea in the evening next to the chimney. And it all seemed so empty without her, colourless and impossible to live. It was like she died for him but he knew it all would pass and he would find himself, surviving once again, like he did the first time.

***

That night, Isabella sneaked off Jim’s bed and went to the kitchen. Why did she do all that? Going back to the old routines with Jim was the least she could do to remind herself of what life was without James and to ignore the pain she was feeling inside, pain she didn’t dare to accept or even embrace because she was too strong to cry. Or at least she was trying to fool herself thinking so.

But there she was, holding a cup of tea and teary eyes, about to explode. Big girls cry but in silence and she would start to do so because she didn’t know what else to do. She knelt down in the floor and stared at her cup of tea. Could a prayer work for her in such a moment? She doubted it but she tried, closed her eyes and cried in solitude, speaking to someone who may or not be hearing. Silence.

***

And so it seemed like life was back on track as it used to be. James got back to teaching and to his solitary explorations in the library and the cafés, reading, chatting and occasionally dating another professor in the faculty. But each day that passed he thought of Isabella and he could not stop missing her.

A year had passed, year in which he worked on a new porject, a series of Nocturnes inspired by no one else but Isabella. Writing them was a hard task but the only way to let out all he had inside. He didn’t dare to call her, write to her or ask about her whereabouts to some students that visited the college from London. Somehow, deep inside he expected to have news from her. Somehow.

It took him some effort to write down something, but he finally did, without any expectation he clicked on “send” and turned away. If it was meant to happen, so be it.

**

And she survived. And life went on just as before James appeared in her life. A year after, Isabella was still at College, this time as a concert player and as a researcher. She started working on new pieces, even darker than Chopin’s, Jim would describe them like ballads about lost loves and Isabella just named them the secret life of words. It was something she felt impulsed to work in after James left, after she dared to stop playing with Jim and when she noticed she was getting lost in a lie.

But Isabella could not forgive herself yet. Jim was nice and kind, remaining a friend but still, with the stain of a heartbreak producedby her silence and incapability of telling him the truth. But he remained there, vigilant and caring. In his mind he wasn’t never able to hold Isabella, but the few time together was enough for him. She could not believe he could be so forgiving, even if he knew or not about the fling.

The Isabella Lynch the world knew was the sensible woman who played her soul off in her piano, silent and mysterious. The real Isabella Lynch leaded a happy life, in daydreams about days past, surrounded by music and the certainty that her heart was able to feel; because James’ words and their effect on her were the confirmation of her having a heart, and that was enough proof of the existence of love for her.

Even when she never dared to look for him again, love was a big distraction. She was too scared and worried of losing track of days again, to get lost in him again. She preferred her old self, something known and controllable.

That’s why, at the sight of an e-mail, from him, one summer afternoon, she decided to send it straight to the trash. She would not read it, she would not hear his voice again and she would not pay attention to what everyone was talking about.

What were they talking about? A set of Nocturnes composed by him named **_The Penalty_** , all of them speaking about her, about an epic love that was never meant to be. 


End file.
